A Whole Spectrum
by Robin's Wife
Summary: Rogues from Arkham Asylum as Heroes in Gotham City, summary isn't much but I hope it's better on the inside.
1. How Well You Walk Through The Fire

Author: Robin's Wife

Title: A Whole Spectrum

Summary: Rogues from Arkham Asylum as Heroes in Gotham City, summary isn't much but I hope it's better on the inside.

Chapter One: How Well You Walk Through The Fire

Rating: M

Author's Note: I am so, so sorry for all the spelling errors, I still haven't downloaded Microsoft word onto my laptop, so I have no spell check! Hopefully this all makes enough sense.

She's given up at last and is in the doorway, our doorway.

"Johnny?"

Her voice glimmers meekly, beckoning me from the distraction, Gotham, oh Gotham, why do you keep me from my bewitching wife?

"It's oh so late darling... Could you be finished? Please?"

I do ponder the end. Not exactly the end of the universe as we see it play out but in fact the end of an era, my era as protectorate of this atramentous excuse for a city.

"For tonight, my little bird, I suppose I could be."

My resplendent lover and wife is absolutely stunning when her lips crawl and then run into a full radiant open-mouthed smile. It slips into the chasm of my heart, sinking far down, a weight tied to it to finally let it plump down onto my total adoration for her, and my own heart thus grows tenfold.

"To bed."

She drew to me like a woman made of pure candle light, daunting and hypnotizing in her fluid walk towards me. I devoured her with my sight, scanning, drinking in her hexing pale honey sweet brown eyes.

Lord honey never tasted so sweet. Honey also never slid into my lap, tender, yearning for me. Pressing delicately into me. I dared to press my finger tips, pinky, ring, middle, index, thumb softly then roughly into her slender baby doll waist.

The dark chestnut chair crooned beneath us, oh but would I be able to make it out of this chair. Would he be able to make it out of this chair?

Him.

I could feel him scrape at the dirt walls of his bottomless chasm I pushed him into.

"Johnny..." Her gentle voice interrupted the upturn in my brain.

"My little bird?" I drawled. Her trained ears or perhaps her all seeing eyes told me she'd heard the clawing, or maybe she saw that tell tale glimmer in my own eyes.

"Allow him to come up." Her manicure was beginning to chip, a tentative and thin red tipped finger was writing poetry into my chest.

Deep from within me, yearningly from my diaphragm, he growled. What kind of a man am I? That I let him have his way with her?

I grabbed her little hand and pulled it around my shoulder.

How can I do this to myself? To her? I let the beast inside of me free around her, my small sprite. This is the last time.

As always without a single utterance of a syllable she craned her neck back for me, her hair spilling behind her shoulders into the air, hanging. She was begging him to grab her hair, to own her.

Quitting cold turkey was key. Now, I had to draw him back now. My self-control was somewhere thrown away into the back recesses of my mind. I needed to bide my time, cease looking at her scrumptious golden skin, her neck bare and desperate for a good marking. Something that would ache every time she thought about me, about him.

I felt feverish until the skin on her neck was being rolled beneath my teeth. He could smell her arousal, her need for him, her lust for him. I need to stop myself. I nursed the sharp bite with my tongue, beginning to suck warmly on her neck. I just need...to...stop...

 _So fucking sexy._

 _Johnathan was away, and it was finally time for me and Sparrow dear to play._

 _"Moan for me." I growled._

 _Her lips parted and a lustful, begging moan came from her. So primal, so full of desire. My lean fingers found her feathery hair and I yanked. Hard. The guttural sound that came from her was delectable. With her neck bare to me my tongue glided down her skin, past her collar bones to finally nibble at the tops of her breast._

 _The soft rhythmic rise and fall of her breast was transitioning from a tender adagio to accelerando as her arousal built up. I couldn't stop myself if I tried. I could practically smell the sweetness between her legs. Oh, how was I away from her so long?_

 _"Sparrow" I called._

 _I slid my index finger between her thighs just beginning to skim her wetness._

 _"Who's my good girl?" I drew my head back to look up at her._

 _Glittering, yearning brown eyes looked at me. She pressed herself closer to my hand. She never parted her eyes from mine._

 _"I'm your good girl." She practically gasped._

 _"Yes, you are." She never expected two fingers to plunge into her._

 _I love...no. I adore the little "oh" face she makes when I shock her like that._

 _I take great pride in truly believing I make her eyes slide to the back of her cranium when they're closed when I fuck her with my fingers._

 _My firm tempo never failed to get her off. Her lower half nudged against me with every in and out motion. She adored me._

 _"S-Scarecrow!" She whimpered out._

 _She needed me._

 _"Scarecrow!" Again._

 _She worshipped me._

 _"Scarecrow!" Again._

 _Bedroom, we need to get to the bedroom._

 _With her head back and her neck free I sliced my tongue across her neck to the space between her jaw and her jugular and I bit tenderly._

 _Is it possible for me to even make it to the bedroom?_

 _"God, floor, let's get to the floor." Isn't she just a little sexy mind reader?_

 _To her dismay, I removed my fingers from her core and gripped the backs of her thighs, lifting her up from the chair as I stood. Taking a knee, I lowered her down onto her backside and watched as she submit to me. Beautifully falling back onto the Santos mahogany floor._

 _I quickly followed her, leaning down against her and just before I could press myself against her lower half I felt her little hands gripping onto my brown dress pants, gripping my waist band and tugging me so I could rub my erection against her. She practically howled in delight._

 _"Now, now, Sparrow dear. Let me take off my trousers so I can pleasure you correctly." It hurt me just as much as it hurt her to lift my body from hers._

 _Eyes. Those fucking big amber eyes. Her sweet little hands fell from my waist line. She gazed at me ardently, almost as a second thought she raised both hands above her head and crossed them at her wrist. Such a good little girl. She just knows I enjoy to pin her down._

 _"Tell me what you're thinking." I began our little word play._

 _Her eyes fell to my finger tips. I gently toyed with my zipper before pulling it down, slow and steady, slow and steady. I ran my fingers back up the metal of my zipper and pulled the button loose._

 _"I need you, more than anything, more than air." She let go of a breath of air she'd obviously been holding._

 _I slipped off my pants and drunk in the wide eyed look at my erection. Adoring, so adoring, just look at her hungrily devouring the sight of me. She truly wanted, no. She truly needed me._

 _"Tell me who you belong to."_

 _"You." She whispered._

 _"Who do you crave?"_

 _"You." She whispered._

 _"And who am I?"_

 _"Scarecrow." She whispered. She bit her lip. "My master."_

 _Oh. So fucking sexy._

(1346 Jester street 11:22 A.M.)

"You can't keep doing this Jon. It's cruel, it's cruel and unusual punishment." Her blonde hair whisked from side to side as she shook her head at me.

"You know half of it isn't me. You also know those bastards deserve it and need I remind you of what your husband does to them, and you're condemning me?!" I was trying not to roar and of course failing.

"Are you joking?! At least it's quick, it's quick and it's done! You draw it out, you torture them Jon. What if Sparrow knew?" She slammed her hands against the table.

"Are you threating me? Harley? Is that what I'm here for? For you to threaten me?" Scarecrow desired nothing more than to put her into her place. Who dares to question him? Who dares to question us?"

 _Let me out, Johnny boy. Let me play. You're going to sit there and take it? Take it like you did when you were young and pathetic and stupid?_

"One day someone is going to make you answer to rules, answer to natural order, Jon. Normal people fear you Jon. The police, the public they want to you to answer. Are you good? Are you really good? The families of those you put in asylums are beginning to wonder." She was away from us now. She's leaning against the kitchen cabinet and her eyes tell me she's starting to plead with us.

"Let them come to my door with pitchforks and fire then. I'm going to keep this city safe, Harley. Safe enough so that the night doesn't bring paranoia with it."

Lifting my cup of coffee, I swirled it a tad before downing the left over quarter. It was a nice house. No, it was a nice home that Harley and Joker had built for themselves.

The red roses outside went beautifully with the olive green color of the entire building. I had to remember that, red roses around the entire property. Rose bushes, Sparrow would ask how big they were, how they smelt.

"Doesn't Sparrow wonder why you're up so late? Doesn't she wonder why you continue to remake new models of fear toxin after fear toxin?" Harley ran a hand through her golden locks.

"Of course she wonders, but unlike you, Joker, Pamela, and even Eddie, she trusts me." I didn't mean to put such a sour casing around my words.

"I didn't bring you here to discipline you, or to insult you. Me and the others worry about you Jon. We love the idea of Sparrow and we all thought you'd even be a little less grim with her and you are. You're a little more James Dean and a lot less the headless horseman. You even have a smile that rivals mine sometimes Doc." The grin wasn't laced with force but did require a gentle nudge of her muscle.

"We know you're not a criminal. We just don't want the general public and the GCPD thinking you could be one someday. Lessen up on the crime and punishment, eh Doc?"

 _Harley needs to be punished, Johnny-boy._

"I notice you've tried two different approaches with me, Harley. Do you notice they're falling upon death ears?" I crossed my arms over my chest and eyed her, really stared at her with discontent pressed into my pupils.

I stood up now, ready to return to the few crucial hours I had alone with my wife. Time was ticking and I had waisted about an hour and half here discussing morality with Harleen Quinzel. If I wanted theology and morality perhaps I'll take a trip back home to Georgia and dig up my grandmother from her lowly grave sight.

"He's not coming back Jon."

If my back wasn't facing her, she would have noticed my left eye twitch.

"How well you walk through the fire, Harley, how well you walk through the fire."

Author's Note: Who do you all think "He" is? Hope you enjoyed this first chapter, please leave reviews! Your feedback means everything to me!


	2. When I'm Fucked Up, That's The Real Me

Title: A Whole Spectrum

Author: Robin's Wife

Chapter Two: When I'm Fucked Up, That's The Real Me

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Sparrow and this idea of this universe.

Headline after headline trickled then rained then poured through the city.

Who Judges Gods Themselves?

Is Our St. Peter Really A Saint?

Hades, Close To Our Homes?

News broadcast after news broadcast kept me from eating my dinner with Sparrow.

"But really, Vale, who IS this guy? And what gives him to run through the night and start offing sinners?"

Men and women on the street, particularly the homeless, the ones with a sharp odor and missing yellow snaggle teeth barked across the street,

"Self-Proclaimed GOD OF FEAR, HEAR ME! SELF-PROCLAIMED, WHO IS HE TO HURT US?"

Perhaps Harley had a point.

"Another hit..."

Standing tall, reminding me of the crushing skull in the demented statue "Man and Skull," there he was.

"Kill them. It's the only answer, kill them Johnny-boy."

I lulled my head to the side, thin slivers of sunlight cut into the room and into my corneas from the cheap drawstring window. I wish Sparrow was with me.

"I can't kill them, Scarecrow."

My tongue felt warm and my veins felt chilly.

"What if they come for us Johnny-boy. Who's going to stop them? Edward? Quinzel? Isely? Please."

He leered down at me with the disappointment a father gives to an idiot offspring. Actually, I believe he leered at me with disgust, I'm a tad too high to calculate the purity of the disgust.

"I've gotta get home soon. University closes. Sparrow...dinner."

I eyed the needle on the faulty light wooden stool to my left.

"Listen to me you, fucking idiot!" He roared.

"Another hit..." I began.

The sensation of the morphine clawing into your blood stream.

I almost married morphine, once.

(Sparrow's P.O.V.)

I miss him when I put on tea, or when I pass someone smoking a cigarette, or when the History channel is on. I miss him at the dawn of the day when I graze my finger tips over to the right and I don't touch his muscle.

Johnathan Lucas Crane is my lawfully wedded husband and I love him more than I can surely explain. I love him to pieces, I love him to dawn, I love him to day, I love him to sunset, I love him to night. I love him enough that I could absolutely shatter.

I love him and I'm missing him because it's 10:30 P.M. and he still isn't home to me.

(Harley's P.O.V.)

"Did you talk to him, pooh bear?" His honed in on me drumming my finger tips on the coffee table.

"Mm-hm Mistah J. Just like you said." He was so pretty... and so mine.

"And did you get through to him, pooh bear?" It was almost like he flew to me. He was suddenly there before me.

"Barley. I don't think anyone does get through unless they're Sparrow!"

"Yes, yes, his ears are sensitive to the bird girl he's fucking, aren't they?"

He was always stuck on Dr. Crane. It was real sad sometimes, I swear the old doctor even took away my puddin's smile sometimes.

"Did you see the headlines, Puddin'? The public ain't likin' 'em too much nowadays!"

"They never really liked him, Pooh. They're just starting to vocalize it now. Ain't that a laugh?"

I swear Dr. Crane did something real bad to him once. Maybe that's why he's so obsessed with him. It's scary sometimes, sometimes I feel like he's always in his head. When we're watching TV, when we eat, when we sleep, even when we fuck. That came out wrong...

"What are we gonna do now?" I looked at him, confused.

"We're going to tell him."

"We are?"

"Well you are. About him."

I swear he's lost his mind the way he's grinning so much. I love it, I eat it up for breakfast all the time that grin. It puts little tiny butterflies in my tummy, makes my skin itch and paints my world into a pretty pink.

"I'm gonna tell 'em. About 'em!"

I love my almost lawfully wedded husband more than I can put into real words.

(Johnathan Crane's P.O.V.)

In dead night, perched over a building's ledge I get the sensation of nostalgia for this brash, ugly city. I recognize that this is in fact my home and if I truly despised it to such a crucial tip, I wouldn't be living here. I wouldn't have bought my wife a home, here.

Although then again, I do think about leaving. Running away, I always want to run away. Perhaps it's the left over effect of the bullying I faced. Or maybe it's my subconscious need to abandon anything and everything before it gets in too deep into my chest, into my core, into my soul.

Isn't a wife a paradox then?

Down below I heard an inebriated woman, no, girl, nearly squeal like a frightened hog.

I'll psychoanalyze myself at a later date.

(Billy "Sharp" Midman's P.O.V.)

This is the last time I talk to this stupid bitch I swear. Always holding out on me.

"Come on Cindy. You promised after we went out to the bar!" She's lucky she's sexy in red.

"I don't...care! Don'! Touch! Me! No! No! No!" Was she swallowing her fucking tongue or speaking Japanese?

"I fucking care, Hoe! You always fucking lie like this, fucking slut!" I was really going to do it this time.

"Bill, leave...me...alone! Go 'way!" Dominance is key and she's going to look so fucking sexy submitting to me, pressed against this wall.

A half-hearted shove and she was face first into the wall. She fell awkwardly, pushing her butt out and pressing her hands into the dirty stone wall. I love that tight ass. She let out this sound, this demented whine, I can't really describe it. It was crooning almost.

And then he was there.

(Johnathan Crane's P.O.V.)

There's a distinct shape in front of me, a grown man. A dirty grown man, they were always grown it seemed.

"That noise. It didn't sound...pleasant."

(Billy "Sharp" Midman P.O.V.)

I'm going to shit myself man. I'm going to fucking shit myself. I wailed around wide eyed so quick and hard Cindy slipped to the floor, facing the wall onto her ass.

"Stay the fuck away from me man. Stay the fuck away!"

(Johnathan Crane's P.O.V.)

"Now, now, child...Is that polite to say?"

It's simple really, what a muffled voice and a cocked head does to the rapist of Gotham. I am known. I am feared.

(Billy "Sharp" Midman's P.O.V.)

I'm fucking stupid because suddenly Queen is blaring through my head.

Mama...I don't wanna die.

I can't stay here. I can't run. I have to pee all that beer out right now, right now because Satan is standing in front of me and he's possibly doing the work of God by stopping what I was gonna do to Cindy.

"Please man... Please, I didn't even touch her yet!"

I was a fucking idiot, yet?!

(Johnathan Crane's P.O.V.)

A memorandum of

Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening

I clanked my scythe's butt onto the ground and raised it, tall above my cranium.

(Billy "Sharp" Midman's P.O.V.)

Oh... mama mia, mama mia...

(Cindy's P.O.V.)

Nothing really matters right now besides that I'm on my butt and I could get away, the alcohol is slowing me down though. Stupid fucking Billy...my papa said he was a no good street rat.

Who dates a guy named Billy anyway? It's better than Sharp though. Seriously, what dumb as shit typist thought of that? Is someone talking to Billy?

FOCUS CINDY!

I'm free, I'm free, just gotta get out of here. Now!

(Johnathan Crane's P.O.V.)

Just before I could slice my scythe I noticed, it was little, I noticed a bit of a realization in the young girl that she was definitely not pressed against a wall about to be raped. I suppose I should spare her the glimpse of watching her probable boyfriend (hopefully EX-boyfriend after this) peeled alive.

"What are you doing?! Don't come any closer!" Ah yes, I do love when the scum of the Earth plead.

(Cindy's P.O.V.)

I'm too fucked up...Billy's gone?

( Around 5:00 A.M.)

(Scarecrow's P.O.V.)

A laboratory mouse is a small mammal of the order Rodentia which is bred and used for scientific research. Sharp, is a rat.

"And rats don't deserve to sleep."

A strong slap to the side of the scalp and Sharp was roused awake, alert, terrified.

"What?! Let me go! You can't do this! Let me go! You can't hold me here."

It appears my rat has gotten antsy and rather bold since Johnny-boy scooped him up from the dusty road.

"Tell me what fear is." He appeared quite baffled.

"W...What?! You fucking freak-show lemme go!"

"Plato once said: We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light...were you a child once? Sharp? I don't believe you were. However I do believe you were once quite afraid of the dark, or perhaps you still are. Understandably so, there are terrifying things in the dark. I'm in the dark, Sharp. However, I am not something to fear. I am fear itself."


	3. Cause Your Love's A Fucking Drag

Author: Robin's Wife

Title: A Whole Spectrum

Chapter Three: Cause Your Love's A Fucking Drag.

Rating: T

( Around Seven Minutes Before 5:00 A.M.)

(Johnathan's P.O.V.)

Voicemail: I miss you... Johnny...when are you coming home? I miss you. It's so oh late, I can't fall asleep with out your body in bed next to mine...stroking my hair...rubbing my back. Come home Johnny...I love you, sugar...I hope you listen to this.

"Oh Sparrow..." The entire room bubbled up with sorrow.

"Of course I'll listen to this...of course I'll listen to you..." The entire room popped with splatters of frustration.

"She loves me so much...she tries to let me go." I glanced up at our wedding photo. The one with no frame that's a little bent in the left hand corner. The one that hangs in my lab's room wall.

"Sparrow... oh Sparrow..." And there she was, each time I blinked.

 _"Johnny!" Her voice glittered. She was absolutely gorgeous, radiant like the moon beams that reflect on the ocean. Calming like the scent of fresh sheets, and so, so adoring of me._

 _"You frightened me!" She pouted at me._

"Come here...Honey bee..." I blindly walked forward towards her apparition, arms open, eager for her petite shape in my arms.

 _She giggled, lightly, tenderly, intoxicatingly._

 _"Take me into your loving arms!" I could see all that radio in the morning was definitely impacting her._

I smirked, but only a tad. I'd hassle her about how much radio she listened to later, after I held her and cuddled her for some time.

"Want me to catch you? Hm?" I towered over her but she was a spry little thing with kitten reflexes, a little clumsy but still difficult to pin down.

I mechanically walked forward, dazed, desiring.

I walked right into him.

(Scarecrow's P.O.V. 5:00 A.M.)

A laboratory mouse is a small mammal of the order Rodentia which is bred and used for scientific research. Sharp, is a rat.

"And rats don't deserve to sleep."

A strong slap to the side of the scalp and Sharp was roused awake, alert, terrified.

"What?! Let me go! You can't do this! Let me go! You can't hold me here."

It appears my rat has gotten antsy and rather bold since Johnny-boy scooped him up from the dusty road.

"Tell me what fear is." He appeared quite baffled.

"W...What?! You fucking freak-show lemme go!"

"Plato once said: We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light...were you a child once? Sharp? I don't believe you were. However I do believe you were once quite afraid of the dark, or perhaps you still are. Understandably so, there are terrifying things in the dark. I'm in the dark, Sharp. However, I am not something to fear. I am fear itself."

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about! Please...please...let me go." He whimpered out the second please starting at the "P" sound and dragging out his "E" sound.

"Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration, I will face my fear...do you have a blade of a guess as to who said that?" If Sharp was in a different angle in his life, I'd have groped at the concept that he may have a nervous tick. Although right now he developed a far more, terrified shiver.

"You're fucking crazy. You're fucking crazy, just lemme go..." He'll be more frightened very soon.

"It was written in a novel in 1965 by Frank Herbert."

"You're a fucking psychopath. Lemme go!"

"The novel's title is Dune."

"Lemme go, lemme go, lemme go, Let. Me. Go!"

"Did you know, power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts... perhaps the fear of a loss of power...Steinbeck, interesting don't you think?" He was a very baffled young man with a leg vibrating with anxiety. Suddenly though, his eyes turned brick like.

"Fuck. You." He snarled.

There was something curious about men, especially men when they were plucked from the streets and de-shelled of their dignity to be tied up like a ravaging pig. Especially men who were faced with fear. Some graveled.

(Four Months Back...)

 _"My lord, my lord, my lord...I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry God. Please God, I'm sorry... I'll never hurt again, I'll never hurt anyone again, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about Joanna. I'll never hurt Joanna again, I'll never hurt anyone ever again, please God just let me go, please God, please God have mercy on me, God I beg of you, oh God, oh God..." Dylan Max sobbed._

Some swung towards rage.

(Two Months Back...)

 _"I'll kill you! Let me out of this chair and I'll fucking kill you! You can't hold me here! You can't trap me like some fucking animal, I'm not a mother fucking dog! I'll fight you, you fucking demon. I'll kick your fucking ass! This fire means nothing to me! I'll fight you Satan! Let me go! Just let me go! Fuck you! Fuck you!" Jesse Paxon roared._

And even still, some froze.

(One Week Back...)

 _His head nearly rotated once my fist connected with the right side of his face. Even so, he did not stutter a single phrase. How odd, how intriguing. He was encompassed in ice it seemed, completely numb to my violent approach, totally frigid beneath my thundering voice. His gaze was rather glassy, quite burnished. He was breathing though. I did hope Tony Garbillo hadn't left me so soon._

Simply enchanting, I use rather dryly. I did find it a bit enthralling that some called me a God and others a demon. Isn't my title God of Fear a bit of an oxy-moron? Perhaps not to my grand-mama...ahem...grandmother, God fearing woman she was.

Oh how I hated her.

"Tell me just one last thing, Sharp." His lips spread for a quick retort.

I jabbed him in the left shoulder with a needle.

"What. Do. You. Fear?"

A rousing scream.

Delicious.

(Gotham's Village Bagel Store Owner's P.O.V.)

"Doll, geez... You're the bird. You're definitely the early one." Jesus, where was her husband? 5:00-ish in the morning and she's wandering about Gotham City, starving and cold.

"I can come back later, I'm just really sorry... I figured you'd be open." She was a little antsy in her pantsy, but she's a sweet kid.

"No, I love the business. You'll be the first to get a fresh hot bagel, cream cheese right?"

"With jelly on the side, yes..." She had a little melody in her voice when she spoke, cutesy

"Grape, right, right, sit near the counter, doll." It had taken me about three minutes to get the right key but we were finally on our way with this little transaction.

She was kinda hesitant but she moved to the seat closest to the wall at table four near the cash register. I moved behind the counter and continued on with starting a fresh bagel.

"So you always wake up this early?" Flour, always loved that plain smell.

"Oh, no...I couldn't sleep too well last night, woke up early, I don't like cooking when I'm home...alone, so I figured you'd be open. I didn't really realize how insane my thought process was." She fidgeted with her hair a little bit, yeah, very nervous nelly.

"Not crazy, doll! But pot o' gold lucky! I usually come at 5:30 but I decided to turn up early! The wife's at home and she's usually here with me but she's not feelin' too swell, so here we are! Home alone, You a single Sally?" Now where is that darn yeast?

(Sparrow's P.O.V.)

I don't believe I can isolate another event when I've been so humiliated in my entire life. Such words have never sent my demeanor to such a sour place.

"No, I'm not. I'm married, since last year." I really didn't want to have such a short tone.

I glanced down at my rings. They glittered back at me, practically brand new, glowing little white specks onto my finger tips. I stroked them with my gaze, where's my Johnny?

Something inside of me was crying out, something inside of me was twisting round and round. Was I cross with Johnny? How could I be cross with such a hero? Shame on me... he has an entire city to protect, millions more people, children, the elderly, other people apart from me...

"That's real nice what's his na-"

"I'm sorry, I just remember I forgot to do something, I've just got to get home." I stood, with a motive but still awkwardly. I left, I was sure the bagel gentleman had said something in response to me leaving but I wasn't listening well enough. My whole body was on fire with self doubt.

What kind of a wife am I to be cross with my selfless husband? I ducked into my Volvo and sped home, finally ready to be the doting wife I should have been to my loving husband.

(Johnathan's P.O.V.)

Desperately needing a shave, I trudged into the drive way up the porch steps and fought with my key to get into the lock. I thought better of shoving the door open and recalled that I should be a tad bit quieter because it was only 6:00 A.M. and I didn't want to wake Sparrow. She usually woke up at around 8:00 A.M. on foggy mornings like these.

I lightly pushed open the door and waltzed in. Oddly, the house looked woken up. There was a mug of coffee half ingested on the kitchen counter. The daily paper was left on the dining room table and the sink was dripping. God dammit...I need to remember to try and fix that with what little handy man type skills I have.

Just a moment. Where oh where is my ravishing woman?

"Little bird?" I called. I reached for the cup of coffee and I finished it off. No response followed my call.

"Oh, Sparrow? Come out, come out wherever you are, little bird." I glanced around the dining room and then around the kitchen. Perhaps she was trying to spook me. She did enjoy attempting that, especially since it was so close to Halloween.

I turned towards the stairs and walked up aiming to look into the shared bedroom.

"Shall I fake a scream again, my love?" I languidly approached our door.

I lightly creaked it open and...

No one was in there.

My paranoia thus took over.


	4. Tick Tock, Tick Tock

Author: Robin's Wife

Title: A Whole Spectrum

Chapter Four: Tick Tock, Tick Tock

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except for Sparrow and I thought of the idea for this story.

Author's Note: So sorry for the lateness of this update, got a little busy and had an awful case of writer's block. I'll definitely try to update quicker from now on but life can be sooooo dreary and busy. Anyway, please review! It really helps give me the drive to continue this story!

(Johnathan's P.O.V.)

From the moment I was conceived I truly believe I had anxiety pressed upon me. It was as if some distant God had looked at me and scorned me, tossing in pain into my destiny. What a very crazy theory I have. I spun around on my heels and raced down the stairs, frantic. I believe my anxiety was correlated to my career of choice. There was always someone out to get me, even if the general public and the crime world feared me. There was always someone eerily creeping in the dark tiring themselves out every day and night trying to figure out just who The God of Fear really was.

What if they had finally figured it out? Triumph finally laced them; they knew about me, they knew about Sparrow. They knew how to break me. I side steppe towards our house phone completely forgetting I had a cell phone in my pocket. Practically shaking I grabbed the device and punched in the numbers faster than The Flash probably could dial. The phone rang and rang and rang, really it didn't it was actually maybe two rings but two was just too slow. Where was my wife? Where was my wife? Where was my wife?

I felt like the wind was knocked out of me by the fifth ring. She was dead, she was dead, oh my wife was dead. She had to be, she knew how paranoid I could be, she knew who she married, so why wouldn't she answer my call? She had to be dead. I gripped the house phone and smashed it against the living room wall. Just before I succumbed to my insanity my ears picked up someone who chose to sit on our porch swing. Damn those fucking children, now wasn't the time. Perhaps I was looking for a fight but I briskly walked to the front door, swung it open and thus found my little bird sitting, crying on our porch swing.

I deflated immediately, all my anger flushed from my system and I felt freshly squeezed.

"Little bird?" I whispered.

Her head shot up to look at me, thoroughly startled. Her nose was slightly scrunched up and her eye brows furrowed together, her mouth slightly agape she shut it then opened it again. A painful whisper answered me back.

"You're home?" She answered.

"I'm home, yes, where were you?" I put my entire body out of the door way and reached my right hand towards her face to wipe away tears. A monstrous mistake.

"You weren't home all night!" She seethed, my past dripping anger seemed to transfuse all at once to her.

My left hand sprung forward so I could hold her sensing her anger was really sadness and a twinge of disappointment, another monstrous mistake. She suddenly stood up and her right hand reached up and smacked me clean across my cheek. The shock of it overtook me and I stood dumb founded looking to the side where my head had been turned. Anger never hit me, shock was the only thing home.

"Did you just, hit me?" I slowly turned to glance down at her, completely surprised.

She looked enraged for about three more seconds and then she went limp and then she went towards bewilderment.

"I didn't mean it!" She said defensively.

She backed up from me, paranoid. Her left hand flew up to nervously scratch at the side of her face.

"Sparrow...Sparrow, darlin'...it's alright." I knew she couldn't resist my drawl.

She stared up at me wide eyed and kept backing up. Apparently she could resist my drawl. I had been through all of this before with some of my patients. I dropped my hands at my sides and took a few major steps back.

"Sparrow, tell me what you're thinking." The last thing I wanted was for this situation to become a panic attack.


End file.
